Official Cause of Injury
by MikeJaffa
Summary: Why the force lances look different at the end of S1


Rated R/M for Ault Content. Do NOT scroll down if you don't want to read it.

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Seriously, this may be one of the most twisted things I've done. There's no shame in clicking on "back" now.

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I mean it. I may need professional help.

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All right, you've made it this far. So put down whatever you're eating or drinking and remember: _I tried to warn you, but you didn't listen_.

TITLE: Official Cause of Injury

RATING: R for adult content

AUTHOR: MikeJaffa

DISCLAIMER: Whoever owns the rights to Andromeda, it's not me. And I'm making no money off. Please don't sue me

SILLY MUSE WARNING: Don't eat or drink while you read this.

SETTING: Early S1

AUTHORS NOTE: So there's a you tube clip of an Andromeda panel that Kevin Sorbo and Lexa Doig did at a SciFi convention a couple of years ago, and they talked about a change in the force lance and why it happened, and I couldn't help but wonder how they would explain that on the show….

"Trance?" Dylan called as he and Tyr entered the medical ward. "How's Beka doing?"

Trance's tail flicked the air nervously. "She's ok," the purple-skinned girl said. "She'll be fine. Really. Fine."

"It's just that Andromeda said something cryptic about a problem with a force lance. As you're all new to the technology, I wanted to be sure there weren't any problems."

"Um…."

"Dylan?" Beka Valentine rolled over in bed. Covered by a blanket from the chest down, it was obvious she was having a little trouble moving. "Hey, it's ok. You didn't have to come down here. It was sweet of you, but you didn't have to. Trance assures me that as a result of Andromeda's med tech, the, ah, affected tissues will be as good as new, and even now, the burns are no big deal, so-"

"'Burns'!?" Dylan yelped. "Damaged tissue? Beka, what happened?"

"Ah…" Beka's eyes flicked to Tyr. "Can we at least keep him out of it?"

Tyr folded his arms imperiously. "As the ship's arms master, I have responsibility where weapons are concerned. If there is a difficulty with the force lances, I should be aware of it."

"Ok, ah…" Beka said. "….um, well, I was, ah, practicing with it, and I, uh, well, maybe got, uh, excited, and got a little, you know, scorched, but not too badly."

"Scorched how?" Dylan asked. "Where? I don't see where you've been hurt. What were you doing?"

"Yeah. Uh, Dylan, you know how the lances have a red tip? And they're gold? And then there are those red lines running down them that look kind of like veins?"

"Yes, Beka, I know what they look like."

"But Dylan, do you know what they *look* like?"

"What do you mean?"

Beka sighed heavily, then motioned Tyr and Dylan to come closer. The two men bent over her bed as she whispered her explanation.

Tyr and Dylan snapped away from the bed, gawking at her. Beka smiled sheepishly.

Tyr found his voice first: "You can't be serious!"

Beka nodded.

"That's, uh…" Dylan stammered. "…that's a new one on me."

"Yeah," Beka said, "and I have to admit, it wasn't-what I mean is-never mind."

"All right," Tyr said, "that's enough. I can respect High Guard technology and appreciate that there is a practical reason why A. I.'s are anthropomorphic, but between Harper's infatuation and now *this,* we have to have a discussion about reproductive priorities. Or does my captain disagree?"

"Yes, well," Dylan said, "Trance, uh, I think we can list the official cause of injury as 'accidental weapons discharge' and leave out the details. Beka …. I hope you…heal up. Tyr. Walk with me."

Once they were in the corridor, Dylan said, "Tyr, are you sure you want to make a big deal out of this?"

"I think the matter has to be addressed," Tyr said.

"No offense, Tyr, but you don't look like the one to impose military discipline, especially as how I'm reminded every day that this crew isn't military."

"None taken, Dylan, and I agree that traditional military discipline would be too far. But some standards of conduct must be adhered to, especially as your quest to restore the Commonwealth is sure to garner public attention."

"I see. In that case, tell me something, Tyr: Do you want to be the one to tell Beka that strictly speaking, a force lance is as much an avatar of Andromeda as Rommie is?"

Tyr's mouth opened several times without any intelligible sound coming out. He finally managed: "I imagine my time would be better spent redesigning the force lances so as to avoid any…confusion in the future."

"Sounds like a good idea to me."

Tyr headed off down a side passage.

The ship's voice mused, "He's going to make them black, isn't he? Hmm, that'll be interesting."

Dylan resumed his walk down the corridor. "Andromeda. When I get want to my cabin, I want full privacy lock on it."

"Ten minutes of screaming?" the ship's voice asked.

"Fifteen. And when I'm done, you and I are going to have a little chat about appropriate interactions with our new crew."

"Aye."

THE END


End file.
